


Stanford Blues

by Tennovakmoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Dean, Dean Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt and comfort, I'm Sorry, Literally so much angst, Little Sam, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pre-Series, Sam Needs A Hug, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennovakmoose/pseuds/Tennovakmoose
Summary: When Sam left the family business to go to Stanford, a big part of his relationship with his brother was lost. Now, finals are approaching fast and Sam isn't doing as well in his classes as he thought he would. He's struggling and wants nothing more than for Dean to come to his rescue and rekindle the relationship he left behind. Little does he know, Dean misses him just as much.





	1. Chapter 1

“I just want to go home,” Sam writes wistfully in a letter he’ll never send. “It’s lonely here and the bed is too small and I’m not as good in my classes as I thought I’d be. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Sometimes, I wish I would have listened to Dad. Just stuck with the family business. At least then I could be with you.

“I miss you so much, Dean. Like I knew I would, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” He paused, to wipe a tear off his cheek. “I see you out of the corner of my eye sometimes and I get so excited but every time I turn to see you, you’re gone.

“I almost regressed the other day. I know I told you I'd outgrown that when I left, but I lied to make it easier. I didn't outgrow it! It was bad, too, that other day. Almost. My thumb was in my mouth and I was about one deep breath away from pissing myself when I realized that I wasn’t wearing a diaper and my daddy was who knows where because I haven’t seen you in six months.

“Dean, Daddy, I miss you! I need you! I can’t keep living without you. I’m sorry I’m so needy. I’m not big enough to do it alone.” Sam was glad his roommate had gone home for the weekend because there was no way he could stop the tears now. He sobbed for his daddy for what felt like hours around the thumb firmly wedged between his teeth.

~ ~ ~

On the bench outside Sam’s dorm, Dean sat under a street lamp and wrote a drunken note to his little boy. “Hi, Sammy. I know you said you'd out grown it, but I miss you, baby boy. I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself, but it’s not the same on the road without you around. I miss taking care of you, holding you in my arms while you drink your bottle, the complete love and trust in your eyes as you watched me change your diapers.

“I know I can’t ask you to come home to me, because that would be asking you to give up your dream and I would never ask that of you, but I really want to ask you. To come home to me, that is. It’s okay though, baby boy, I don’t mind, this is better for you anyways. Safer. Daddy loves you, Sammy. I’ll always love you, little or big, hunter or lawyer. You’ll always have a home with me, no matter what John says out of anger.

“I hope everything is good for you. I know you wanted out, so I’ll leave you alone now, but I’ll always be here if you need me. Always, baby brother.” Dean sighed and folded the note in two, sliding it in Sam’s mailbox before finally walking off campus for the first time after looking after Sam from a distance all year.

~ ~ ~

The next day, Sam woke up a mess. His hair was ruffled, his eyes swollen and red, teeth marks in the base of his thumb where it had been sitting in his mouth all night. His letter was crinkled and splotched with tears, and when combined with how shaky his hand had been when he was writing it, barely legible. He slowly sat up and rubbed the dried snot, spit, and tears from his face.

After a quick shower to wake himself up and clear the rest of the gunk off his face, he walked back to his room, ripped his letter to tiny pieces and flushed them, forever getting rid of the evidence of his moment of weakness last night. For some reason he couldn’t really explain, he felt the need to check the mailbox he shared with his roommate. It was Sunday, and still early in the morning, so the chances that there was anything there were practically one in a million but it gave him something to do.

Standing in front of the wall of mailboxes in the wall of his dorm, Sam found a simple, folded napkin with his name written sloppily on the front. He waited until he was back in his room to read it and was glad he did, because, as soon as he saw who it was from, he broke again. It took him an hour to read the whole note the first time through the tears and the body-shaking sobs and Dean’s obviously drunken hand writing. Dean had been so close, literally right downstairs, last night, and neither of them knew just how bad they were needing each other, and now he was gone.

When Sam’s roommate finally came back to campus that night, he found Sam curled up on his bed, a dirty napkin clutched to his chest, his thumb in his mouth, with tears, drool, and snot streaking his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally wrote the first chapter of this a long time ago, right after I started college, when I was struggling a lot with a lot of different things. At the time, I had no intention of ever posting it or writing a second chapter, but my best friend talked me into sharing it and as I gradually got used to college, I began to feel much better about life and didn’t feel right leaving Sam how I had in the first chapter. I finally came back here to give this version of these characters a slightly better ending.

“Um, Sam?” Adam, Sam’s roommate, asked carefully. When he didn’t receive a response, he tried again, a little bolder. “Sam! Hey, buddy, wake up!”

Sam jumped at the loud noise and sat straight up in bed, looking for the potential danger. All he found though was a wide-eyed Adam standing with his hands up in a defensive position, backpack still on.

“Woah, easy Sam. It’s just me. You uh, you look a little rough there bro. Long night?” He asked with a knowing smirk.

Sam did a quick inventory of himself and, noticing the note/napkin still clutched in his hand, suddenly remembered all that had happened. “No,” he answered shortly. “Rough morning.” Sam was climbing out of bed as quickly as he could, reaching for his phone on his desk across the room. Who knew when Dean had put that note in his mail box? He could be anywhere by now.

Behind him, Adam was completely dumbfounded watching his normally well-put together roommate. When Sam stood up, Adam had noticed he’d wet himself at some point but didn’t seem to know it yet, or didn’t care. “What’s going on? Sam what the actual hell happened to you?” He could tell by Sam’s heavy breathing and shaking hands that he was in complete panic mode but without knowing what had happened, he had no way to make it better. “Sam what does that say?” He reached out for the filthy thing Sam was still clinging to when he realized there was some sort of writing on it.

“No!” Sam yelled at him pulling the note out of his reach, finally realizing Adam was still in the room. He looked down at his phone, Dean’s number already in and being dialed. “Get out.”

Suddenly, Sam was shoving shoving Adam toward the door. “The hell? No I’m not ‘getting out’ Sam, this is my fucking room too!” Adam was quickly going from concerned to pissed. Who was Sam to kick him out of his own room? “Tell me what’s going on and maybe I’ll consider leaving.”

“Hello?” Dean’s voice answered distantly, Sam had to talk to him NOW, but knew there was no way he could stay big, and Adam couldn’t know his secret and he wasn’t leaving. “Hello? Is anyone there? Who is this?” Dean spoke again. Sam felt tears welling up in his eyes again.

“Please,” Sam whispered. “Adam please just go. I can’t tell you, I’m sorry, but I need you to go, just for a little while I swear. Please.” He knew he was begging but couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Okay Sam. I’m going. I’ll stay with my friend tonight, just... just don’t do anything stupid, okay? And call me if you need anything.” Seeing how upset Sam was took all the fight out of Adam and he was finally leaving Sam to have this conversation in private. Confused as hell, Adam went down the hall and knocked on a door.

***

Dean froze in his actions when he finally heard a noise over the phone. He had been climbing into the driver’s seat of his car from the parking lot of the motel he’d stayed in that night when his phone rang. Thinking it was probably just his father or another hunter needing help, he answered without looking at the name and was stating to get annoyed with the answering silence when he heard a noise, like somebody was talking with the phone held about a mile away from their mouth. He knew that voice better than anyone else’s. But it couldn’t be. Sam didn’t want him anymore. He wouldn’t call. But there, someone else talked and he’d called the first person ‘Sam’. It couldn’t be, but it had to be. “Sammy? Is that you?” Dean’s heart was racing in his chest. What if something was wrong. What if Sam was hurt? Something could have got him. If anything happens to Sam, Dean doesn’t know what he’d do. “Sam!” He said a little louder.

“De,” came Sam’s breathless reply, finally. Dean dropped heavily back into his seat. Hearing Sam’s voice was like a breath of fresh air after being buried alive. “De?” He said again, a question this time.

“Yeah, Sammy I’m here. What’s going on? You okay?” Dean could hear just from those two syllables that something was up, just hopefully nothing big.

“I’m... well I’m not hurt or anything.” Sam sounded tired and choked, like he’s crying or trying really hard not to. “De where are you? I really need to see you.”

“Why, kiddo, what’s wrong? I mean I’ll come, I’m not that far actually, but I need to know what’s wrong.” Dean pulled the door shut with a squeak he really should fix but hardly noticed.

“I- I can’t.” Sam choked on a sob and clutched his phone to his face so hard it hurt. “Dean please, need you. ‘M too small, I can’t do it.”

Dean felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He should’ve known his boy would nee him. “Oh, Baby. I’m on my way right now, kiddo, I’ll be there in half an hour. Just hold on sweetheart, Daddy’s coming.” He started the car and held the phone with his shoulder while we pulled out, going the way he’d come only hours before.

“Daddy,” Sam cried and sat down heavily on the floor, relief washing over him in waves now that he knew he still had his daddy, who would be there with him soon. Calmed slightly, Sam noticed he was uncomfortable. “Daddy, ‘m wet an’ yucky.”

“Did Sammy have an accident?” Dean’s heart ached at the mental picture of his boy alone and crying in a puddle of what he could only hope was just urine. Sam hummed the affirmative with a high pitched whine. “Oh, honey, its okay. Can you help Daddy and hop in the shower and get cleaned up? I know it’s hard sweetheart but I need you to be able to come let me in when I get there.” Dean hated to ask the little boy to do anything other than play with his toys or color a picture but he knew with his sensitive skin, Sam would end up with a killer rash if he sat in wet pants any longer than he already had, and he didn’t have time to fight with security for breaking into the dorm if Sam wasn’t able to let him in.

Sam took a deep, shuddering breath and Dean could hear him building up all the courage he had so he could be a good boy and help his daddy out. “Okay Daddy.”

“There’s my good helper!” Dean forced a smile into his voice. “You go do that and by the time you have clean clothes on I’ll be calling you back to come let me in, okay?”

Sam’s “okay Daddy” sounded much more confident that time. “Love you.”

Dean bit back a sob: he needed Sam in his arms right now and was too far away. “I love you too buddy. I’ll see you soon.”

***

As usual, Dean’s timing was perfect.Sam had just managed to pull a clean shirt over his head, a remarkably difficult task when your limbs aren’t listening like they should, when his phone started ringing. “De?” He practically shouted.

“Yeah, kiddo it’s me. I’m out front of your building. Come let me in?”

Sam was already out the door. Hair dripping, shirt on backwards, Sam ran barefoot down the stairs and through the halls. He felt like he was in a nightmare with how the halls seemed to stretch infinitely in front of him. Finally, he reached the front door and, as promise, there was Dean, only two sets of double doors between them, after all those months apart.

Sam threw open those doors and crashed into Dean with enough force they both should’ve ended up on their asses in the snow. Instead, as always, Dean was ready and caught Sam in time. He also managed to usher them both inside before the door could close and lock them out in the cold. Inside, warm and together, Dean took a minute to breathe in the smell of clean Sam, the smell of home. “Sammy,” he sighed, indulging himself in the closeness for just a moment before moving on to the monumentally more important task of calming Sam down and setting to make him start to feel better. “Hey Sammy, its alright. I’m here. Just breathe Sweetheart. I’m here. You need to calm down a little before you make yourself sick.” Dean whispered into wet hair and rubbed Sam’s back like he knew he loves.

Sam, for his part, hadn’t even noticed he was crying again (the hot shower having relaxed him considerably) until he heard Dean’s words. He tried to get himself under control but his body just wouldn’t listen. “De,” he sobbed instead.

“Yeah little one, just breathe, just like that. You’re okay, shh, you’re okay.” Dean continued to hold and comfort Sam until he slowly but surely began to settle down and breathe normally again. He continued to hold Sam for a few long moments after he’d calmed down, refusing to be the first to let go after so long apart.

Eventually, Sam did let go and stepped back, smiling and wiping his eyes. Dean smiled back and said “Hiya, Sammy.”

“Hi, De,” was his watery reply.

“Let’s go up to your room now, okay? So we can be alone?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course.” Sam nodded and flushed red realizing they were still standing in front of the doors. Unwilling to not be touching, Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and led him back down the (now normal length) halls and up the stairs to his tiny dorm room.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Sam was in Dean’s arms again, his own arms curled up between them, fists clutching tight to Dean’s jacket. “I’m so sorry Dean. I should have listened to you. I should’ve never left. I’m not strong enough to do this on my own; I’m not big enough! It’s too much, too hard. I need you. Dean take me with you. Don’t make me stay here alone. Dean please I’m so sorry!”

“Hush, Baby, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. It’s okay, you’re okay. I gotcha now, you’re okay.” Dean pulled Sam to sit in his lap on one of the beds. They sat together for a long time, Dean humming softly, Sam trying not to cry, just getting used to being together again.

“De?” Sam whispered softly enough that dean almost didn’t catch it.

“Hm?” He replied.

“Can I still be your little boy now?” Self consciousness suddenly made Sam doubt what Dean had written, for no reason he could logically determine.

“Always, Sammy. Always my good, sugar sweet little baby Sammy-boy,” came Dean’s immediate answer, causing Sam to snuggle deeper into his chest.

A loud crash followed by a scream and laughter caused them both to jump and popped the cozy little bubble they’d formed around each other. Sam whined, long and high pitched, and tried to bury himself into Dean’s chest like he could hide from the scary noise. Dean knew then he was dealing with a his baby boy, his tired baby boy, instead of his little brother.

“Hey, Sammy, Baby, why don’t we go somewhere else for the day, huh? We could go get a motel room with a bathtub and a bigger bed and we wouldn’t have to worry about your roommate or anything, okay? That sound good to you?” Dean rubbed Sam’s back and tried to look at his face.

“‘Kay Daddy,” Sam answered, willing to do whatever Dean wanted so long as he didn’t have to be alone today.

“Alright, baby. Then you go use the potty real quick and we’ll get ready and go as soon as you get back.” He gently pushed Sam in the right direction who went and did as he’d been told. While Sam was gone, Dean found Sam’s socks, boots, hat, coat, and gloves and laid everything out on the bed. He also found Sam’s planner and took note of his schedule for the nest few days. Nothing today, thank God, but three finals tomorrow and two the next day before he was finished with his first semester. Poor kid had had a rough one if that little book was anything to go by.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted when Sam walked back in. “Let’s get you ready to go.” Dean led him over to sit on his desk so Dean could get him dressed and ready. Dean pulled off Sam’s backward shirt and gave his far too skinny tummy a tickle just to hear his boy laugh before putting it back on the right way. Next, he knelt to put Sam’s socks and boots on, but not before pretending his feet stunk so bad it knocked him out.

Sammy’s Daddy was so silly. His feet didn’t stink! But Daddy thought they smelled so bad he gaged the whole time he was putting on Sammy’s socks and shoes. And wasn’t that cool? His Daddy was putting his shoes on for him like Sammy was Cinderella and Daddy was his Prince Charming! Sammy really liked that. He could be Daddy’s princess!

Then, Daddy was brushing his hair and singing a silly song about rats and cats and elephants being in Sammy’s hair. It felt really nice when Daddy brushed his hair. It never pulled or hurt like it does when he tries to do it himself. Then Sam was wearing his coat and hat and gloves and his Daddy was taking him outside.

***

Sam fell asleep in the car and slept through Dean’s stops at a Walmart (for diapers, bubble bath, and footed pajamas) and at a diner (for as much food as he could carry). Dean also let him sleep through him checking into a room and taking everything inside. Looking through the window at the peaceful babe, Dean wished he was strong enough to carry Sam inside without waking him up, but the dead weight would simply be too much for him.

Reluctantly, Dean opened the door and knelt down beside the seat. “Sammy,” he said brushing Sam’s hair off his forehead. “Wake up kiddo. Time to go inside now.”

“Dean?” Sam woke up slowly, rubbing his eyes with a fist, confusion scrunching his eyebrows. Suddenly, he sat up fully and turned to look down at Dean, eyes wide as saucers. “I can’t be here. I have tests, finals, I have to study for, I can’t miss them, I’ll fail!”

Dean could feel the panic once again welling up in Sam. “Stop! Stop, Baby, its okay. I checked your schedule before we left, you don’t have anything today and if you don’t know the stuff on the tests by now you’re not gonna learn it so there’s no need to spend today studying yourself sick.” Sam was slowly starting to relax. “The only think you have to do today, little one, is to relax and trust Daddy to take care of everything. I’ve got it all under control; just trust me today. Think you can do that for me?” Sam nodded and leaned down toward Dean, already trusting the older man to catch him. Dean gave his boy a tight hug before gently pulling him out and towards the motel room door. “Whaddaya say we eat some lunch, huh?”

***

After Sam had eaten as much as he could without making himself sick, Dean set him up with a cartoon, crayons, and some paper while he cleaned up lunch and put the leftovers away for dinner later. Just as he was finishing up, Sam yelled “Daddy!” Dean jerked his head up and was kneeling next to the younger man in the space of two heart beats. Before he could ask what was wrong, Sam smiled up at him and said “I maked you a picture, Daddy! See, its you an’ me an’ you Baby!” Sure enough, there were two stick figures, one taller with short green hair and the other much shorter with shaggy purple hair, both wearing huge smiles and holding hands. There was also a large dark blue blob with four rough circles under it that did sort of look like the Impala if he squinted and used his imagination. “Do you like it? I puted my name on it too so you can bemember its from me.” There was a small pink scribble in the bottom corner he pointed out.

“It’s absolutely beautiful, Sammy! I’ve got a real Picasso on my hands by the looks of it!” Dean praised, ignoring the adrenaline fading from his system. He stood and dug the medical tape from the first aid kit in his duffle to tape the masterpiece to the fridge. “I love it Sam. Thank you.” Sam beamed and turned back to the cartoon.

Dean walked back over and sat down on the couch behind where Sam was laying on the floor. “Hey, Sammy.” Dean caught one of Sam’s swinging feet and gave the sole a little tickle, smiling when Sam giggled and jerked it away. “Whaddaya say we get a diaper on that butt?” He poked the side of said butt with his toe.

Sam thought about it for exactly one second before responding: “No, I a big boy, I use da potty.”

‘So it’s gonna be one of those days,’ Dean thought. “Okay buddy you just gotta remember to tell me when you need to go before its an emergency if you can please.”

“Okay Daddy!”

Dean leaned back and took in the scene in front of him. The day before Sam’d told them he was leaving for Stanford, he had pulled Dean outside for a walk that they’d told John was a trip to the library for research. The two of them had spent nearly an hour in a park, not really saying much of anything before the tension got to be too much and Dean finally asked what was going on. Sam went on a long, obviously well rehearsed story about how he couldn’t be Dean’s Little anymore; that he’d outgrown it and needed to move on and be an adult. It hurt, to hear that Sam had supposedly just been playing along for months because he thought Dean needed a Little when in reality if Sam wasn’t a Little Dean wouldn’t be a Caregiver at all, but he could take it. He wasn’t loosing Sam after all, he’d still be there, Dean could still look after him, just in a different way. Dean would be anything Sam needed him to be. Sam hugged him for a long time before they went back to the motel. Then the next day, he left them for school. Dean will forever hear Johns shout “if you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back!” and feel the door slamming behind Sam deep in his chest like its happening all over again every time he thinks of that night. He never thought he’d even hear from his brother again, let alone get to watch him sprawled out on the floor, coloring with crayons and watching cartoons, carefree and happy, ever again. He wished he could freeze time and keep them both happy and safe in this crappy motel room forever.

After a while, Sam seemed to get bored of the crayons and left them abandoned to curl up next to his Daddy on the couch instead. He laid his head on Dean’s shoulder and hid behind his long hair. “I missed you lots and lots.” His voice was so soft and small Dean only heard it because his ear was right next to Sam’s mouth when he said it. There was a tremble behind the words that told Dean just how true the statement was. He tugged and pushed at Sam until he was seated sideways on Dean’s lap so they could hold onto each other a little easier.

“I missed you too, Buddy. Lots and lots and lots. More than you could ever know.” Dean rubbed Sam’s back in big, soothing circles. Sam clung tight around Dean’s neck and heaved a huge quivering sigh. “Daddy, I sowwy I lied to you ‘bout bein’ big!” he whimpered.

“Sh, baby, hush. That was a long time ago now. It’s alright. It’s forgiven. Don’t worry about that anymore little one. It’s alright. Daddy’s here now and I still love you more than anything.”

Sam sagged heavy against Dean. They once again sat together for a long time, simply enjoying being together.

Once they’d both calmed back down, they spent the afternoon playing silly games and laughing. They played “did you ever think...” and “the floor is lava” and “Daddy’s the baby and Sammy’s the Daddy” which quickly turned into “Daddy’s the tickle monster” which then turned into a quick dash to the bathroom before Sammy had an accident.

After dinner it was bath time. “Will you wash my hair?” Sam asked from where he sat on the toilet lid waiting for Dean to fill up the tub with warm water and lavender scented bubbles. Bath time was always Sammy’s favorite.

“Well of course, silly goose. Who else is gonna do it? Mr. Duck?” Dean held up a small rubber duck.

“No, Daddy!” Sam laughed. “Mr. Duck doesn’t got any hands!”

“Oh, my mistake,” Dean feigned realization. Satisfied with the temperature, Dean stood up and turned toward Sam. “Arms up, squirt. Can’t take a bath with your clothes on.” As Dean stripped him down, he checked Sam over for any sign of injury, more out of habit from hunting than of need. He did find something of concern though. He pulled off Sam’s underwear and hissed in sympathy as he discovered a painful looking rash on and around Sam’s penis. “Sammy, this has to hurt, buddy.” Dean carefully examined the area that was obviously diaper rash, probably from when he’d wet his pants earlier, before even calling Dean that morning. Who knew how long the poor boy had been wet before he even noticed? “Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Dean looked up at Sam to see him chewing on his fingers. Sam just shrugged in response. “Okay. I think I still have some cream I’ll put on it after your bath,” he said mostly to himself.

Dean took his time bathing Sam, letting the boy play with the duck and bubbles as long as he liked. When he finally moved on to washing Sam’s hair, Dean was sure to use Sam’s favorite two-in-one shampoo and conditioner and spent much longer massaging it in than necessary. He also sang softly to Sam, hoping to have him almost asleep before it was time to get out. Sam sang along at first: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” but by the time Dean finished rinsing his hair, his head was nodding and his eyes stayed closed longer with every blink.

As gently as possible, Dean pulled Sam out of the water and quickly wrapped him in a warm towel. He dried him off and lead him into the main room and sat him on the bed before he could fall asleep standing up. Not caring about anything but the soft, warm bed, Sam began crawling, naked, to the pillows.

“Na-ah, Sammy,” Dean stopped him with a gentle hand on his hip. “Clothes first, bud.” Sam whined in response but rolled back over where he belonged and shoved his thumb in his mouth.

Dean smiled fondly at his grumpy boy and slid a diaper under his bum. As promised, he carefully applied cream and powder to the rash, cooing at Sam when he whined and squirmed in discomfort. He then taped the diaper shut and got Sam into the pj’s he’d bought earlier. When Sam asked for Bones, his stuffed dog, after being tucked in, Dean thanked God, Buddha, and his lucky stars he hadn’t been able to throw it away as Sam had told him to the day before he left.

“Night, Night, sweet babe.” Dean kissed Sam’s forehead, then his nose. “ Daddy loves you.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” Sam said around his thumb.

Dean checked the salt lines, flipped off the light and climbed into the bed closest to the door. In the morning, he’d have Sam up and ready to go with plenty of time to cram before his tests. Together, they’d figure out the rest from there.


End file.
